Stubble
by Eve-the-Charlotte
Summary: or Five Aspects of Percival Ignatius Weasley that Hermione Jean Granger Loves and One Vice Versa. What it says on the tin. High T for very non-explicit things.


_Stubble _or _Five Aspects of Percival Ignatius Weasley that Hermione Jean Granger Loves and One Vice Versa_ by _Eve-the-Charlotte_

Disclaimer: I obviously am not J. K. Rowling, and I, therefore, do not own the _Harry Potter_ series, no matter how much I whine and cry and stamp my feet. It's not happening, folks.

Pairing: Percy/Hermione.

I normally am not a fan of this pairing, but the idea popped into my head, and I decided to just run with it. I'm rather pleased with how it turned out, and I hope you, my awesome audience, feel the same way.

^Stubble^

She loved his stubble in the morning. Despite rumors (spread by the twins) to the contrary, Percy was not a morning person at all and went to great lengths in his desperate attempts to sleep in. Because of his hatred of the morning sun, Hermione got to see short, dark reddish-brown hairs adorn her boyfriend's face when she awoke to the start of the day. The young woman adored the feel of the whiskers against her soft hands and cheeks and lips, scratchy yet somehow soothing. His jaw, by no means pointy, was angular enough for the growth of hair to add to the older man's handsomeness. And in the evening when Percy came home from a long day on the job, with the dark stubble contrasting with his wine red hair (inherited from the Prewett side rather than the Weasley), Hermione couldn't keep herself from peppering her boyfriend's stubbly jaw line with small kisses that led to much bigger and longer kisses involving lips and tongues and often a bit of teeth that moved the couple back to the bedroom. Ms. Granger just couldn't help it; Mr. Percy Weasley looked ravishing when he didn't shave.

Hermione loved Percy's ambition. She loved his grandiose plans to run the Wizarding world with as much efficiency as possible. It wasn't the ideas that spouted from her lover's lips that captivated the young lady as much as the _way_ Percy said them. His pale wintergreen eyes would light up with a particular spark, with an unquenchable fire that was only found elsewhere in their bedroom. His hands would move quickly and with much gesturing, trying to explain and expound upon designs that the man could never find the proper words to express. The pleased look on Percy's face when Hermione smiled and nodded in agreement with his plans made her stomach do butterfly flips in her gut and her heart to pump on double-time. The thing that Hermione loved most bittersweetly about the whole affair was that Percy only told _her_ these dreams, because the man felt only his dear girlfriend, Hermione Granger, would understand, would _care_, and that would cause a crack to form in her heart.

The young woman loved Percy Weasley's glasses. Hermione felt privileged to be one of the few "in the know," to know that Percy did not truly need glasses but felt more intelligent, more "in the zone" with them on rather than off. She loved how the light glinted off of them in a peculiar way when the man triumphantly won an argument, how they enhanced his wintergreen eyes, how the wire frames seemed to be so much a part of the man's persona. But she loved it more when they were off, in their bed, as he made love to her. The ways his seemingly defenseless eyes would widen in a mixture of lust and love and ecstasy when they finally joined to make the beast with two backs. The way they shone with adoration when she blushed at his previously lust-filled gazes. The way they softened after they had both come undone and been loosely reassembled into two worn out bodies. Yes, it was a tie between _her _Percy with his glasses on and _her_ Percy without them.

The pretty witch loved Percy's build. He was tall and slim, without a lot of muscle or fat. Most women would scoff at him, saying he looked like a scarecrow or that he was skeletal. Yet Hermione Granger loved his frame, tall enough to help with reaching items on top shelves where her petite body did not allow her to go and just the right size to be pleasing to her chocolate colored eyes and not intimidating to her. She had dated muscular men before, and they all left her feeling frightened when they let their passions reign. Their strength left bruises on her thin, delicate skin that marred the porcelain color hideously. Percy didn't have to restrain himself in his passion so he need not harm her, for which Hermione was thankful, since it gave her express permission to return the favor, matching his grip with her own, his fire with hers, burning each other up with their combined fiery love. Also, his build hid his strength, reminding her every day not to judge a book by its cover, nor a man by his outward appearance. Plus, he was very fun to climb!

She loved his attention to detail. She loved the way he remembered dates and anniversaries when others, even she, failed to take notice. Hermione never worried about him missing her birthday or the anniversary of them finally coming together as he asked her to dance at the Yule Ball that winter of 1994. She never failed to see the small gifts that often appeared around their flat, things that she had spied upon in the local shops but did not think to purchase for herself.

Percy loved the way Hermione loved him. It was evident in the way she smiled, the way she kissed his stubbly cheek when they awoke in the morning, the way she truly _listened_ as he told her his goals and ambitions and dreams, the way she did not make fun of his insistence of wearing unneeded glasses, the way she let her hands trace up and down his body, the way she truly appreciated the gifts he gave her (even the small ones), and the way she looked at him like there was no one she would rather be with. Percy did not know how he got his wonderful witch, much less why he was the one she bestowed her affections upon, but he would not trade this love for anything in this world. Percy loved Hermione, and that was all.

^Stubble^

Fini.


End file.
